Chapter 12

Many prioritize financial gain above all else, bending rules but remaining within legal boundaries. This pragmatic approach, however, elicits profound contempt from those with unwavering ethical principles; to them, it reeks of crass materialism. In 1862 Belgium, Marie Philippe embodied this latter ideal. Born in Limburg in 1810, Philippe's early life spanned the volatile political shifts of the Napoleonic era. Initially a subject of the Kingdom of the Netherlands, he experienced the upheaval of 1815 and the subsequent fifteen years of relative prosperity under Dutch rule. The Belgian Revolution of 1830 redefined his identity, transforming him into a citizen of the newly formed Belgian state, a staunch liberal within its fledgling political landscape. Through shrewd maneuvering, Philippe ascended to prominence in Hasselt, becoming a pivotal figure in Limburg's political sphere. His talent caught the discerning eye of Henri De Bruquere, a leading liberal and senatorial colleague from Limburg, who, in 1849, sought Philippe's expertise as a campaign strategist. This alliance propelled Philippe to the apex of Belgian power. He became an indispensable confidant and advisor to De Bruquere, whose election as Prime Minister in 1850 vaulted Philippe into the rarefied circles of Belgian aristocracy and high society. Yet, this success masked a darker reality; he became emblematic of the pervasive corruption and moral degeneracy festering at the heart of Brussels' political establishment. His "talent" was undeniably captivating, a mesmerizing spectacle for ambitious climbers. He leveraged meticulously cultivated connections—his role as Senator Bruker's aide, then presidential advisor, and finally, a key player in national development—to amass a considerable fortune. Hotels, machinery firms, real estate ventures, and shadowy investments swelled his coffers. He reveled in ostentation, favoring lavish travel and extravagant displays of wealth. But beneath the veneer of opulence lay a calculating mind. These luxurious excursions served as stages for his masterful performances, each role flawlessly enacted, much like his earlier charade for the Prime Minister. However, his meteoric rise ended abruptly. The shift in power in 1854, with the ascendance of the devout Pierre de Brucker, shattered his carefully constructed empire. Accusations of tax fraud swiftly followed, culminating in a twenty-year prison sentence. A fortunate pardon in 1856 shortened his confinement, but his fall from grace left a deep scar. Former sycophants now recoiled, their earlier deference replaced with wary disdain. Was it fear of his vengeance, or a judgment that his influence had truly waned? He himself, after the initial shock, demonstrated remarkable resilience. Yet, a chilling realization gnawed at him: the true extent of his complicity with those he'd aided. The Netherlands, it turned out, harbored a political mastermind—a Belgian prodigy whose strategic brilliance surpassed even Henri de Bruquet. This individual, he felt, was a perfect partner; their collaboration, unburdened by the power dynamics of the past, ignited a profound, almost mystical synergy, far surpassing any marital bond. His early release, brokered by the Dutch, came with a price: the advancement of their chosen candidate to the Belgian premiership.

Jules Darnell, West Flanders' senator and the Netherlands' designated representative, sat opposite Marie Philip. The contrast was stark: Darnell observed the youthful, vibrant thirty-year-old with a surge of self-satisfaction. Philip, however, felt a pang of regret, a sharp envy. His trajectory, he mused, had been tragically miscalculated. A more forthright approach, a less clandestine path, might have spared him this subservient role. Darnell's complacency, however, was a fragile veneer. Philip, despite his diminished circumstances, remained defiantly himself—a man of formidable political acumen. His sardonic gaze pierced through facades, instantly discerning power dynamics and advantageous opportunities, whether terrestrial or maritime. Yet, ironically, Philip hadn't initially been Darnell's preferred choice. The senator had coveted a different associate—a prominent figure in Dutch politics known for his impeccable reputation and strategic brilliance. This individual, Darnell believed, could have lent his campaign an air of respectability, garnering greater Belgian support. Instead, Darnell's current campaign tactics, driven by expediency, risked portraying him as morally ambiguous. Two tumultuous years advising Darnell in Mali had irrevocably stained Philip's image. The initial brightness of his prospects had been eclipsed by a growing darkness. Nevertheless, their collaboration had yielded impressive results. West Flanders, thanks to their joint efforts, now flourished, rivaling even Flemish Brabant in prosperity.

Jules Darnell's considerable support in West Flanders, already substantial, had solidified further among the Belgian senators. Another electoral victory seemed assured; however, he harbored loftier ambitions. He aimed for the premiership, a direct challenge to incumbent Valter Frel Albon, and planned a campaign commencing April 20, 1862 – a mere three months hence. This bold objective fueled his urgent meeting with Marie Philip. Pressure from the Netherlands intensified his resolve. Facing Albon, a fellow liberal, presented a formidable but not insurmountable obstacle. "Philip," Darnell began, "what are our prospects for success?" Marie Philip, after a thoughtful pause, delivered her assessment with gravity. "Albon, while shrewd and a fellow liberal, suffers from considerable public discontent. His economic policies are widely criticized, and his excessive deference to King Leopold II, coupled with his pro-British stance, has ignited widespread anger, particularly among French and Dutch-speaking Belgians. This presents a crucial opportunity." However, a caveat emerged. "France has nominated Barthelemy Dete de Merante of the Catholic Party, intending to unseat Albon. If your candidacy splinters the liberal vote, destabilizing the existing power structure, it could jeopardize the traditional northern dominance in Belgium, potentially handing France a decisive advantage." Observing Darnell's unwavering gaze, Philip felt a thrill of mutual trust and ambition. With quiet confidence, yet laced with forceful conviction, she continued, "But I am Marie Philip, the individual who, a decade ago, propelled a senator to the premiership. Our anxieties are shared, I believe, by Prussia and Britain, both wary of French influence. Leveraging this dynamic, and considering Leopold II's shared religious affinities with us, I predict our primary contest will be between you and Albon." Darnell, with a captivating display of gentlemanly assurance, responded, "I believe you are correct; I believe I can prevail."

This individual possesses an undeniable charisma, a captivating allure that permeates every action. Marie Philip believes him perfectly sculpted for the political arena, a natural-born leader. Marie Philip offered a wry smile, acknowledging the gentleman's proposition. "A path exists," she conceded, "but with caveats." "And those are?" "We exploit the Dutch incident—Britain's controversial entry into the Belgian port—to manufacture a scandal. This will strategically trigger internal conflict and erode his support base." Leaning close, she subtly divulged her tactical maneuver to Jules Darnell. Jules, after a protracted period of thoughtful contemplation, voiced his astonishment. "I must concede," he declared, "my judgment in securing your counsel as military strategist was impeccable!"